Home is Where the Heart Is
by drunkonwords
Summary: When Storybrooke returns for the second time after Pan's curse, Killian restores Emma's memories with a kiss. In addition to figuring out her new relationship with Killian, Emma has to deal with the Snow Queen who has chosen Storybrooke as her new frozen domain. Not to mention the deal between the Snow Queen and Wicked Witch, who wants Emma's first-born child. Captain Swan.
1. A Curse

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything nor profit from this story in any way**

Emma stared numbly at her family in front of her. She stared at them, unseeing, a battle raging in her heart. This would be the last time she ever saw them—the last time she ever thought of them, or even remembered them. This was it. For good.

After twenty-eight years, she'd found her family. They hadn't been anything like she was expecting. It was dangerous, scary, stressful, busy, and downright ludicrous sometimes living with them. She'd found her parents and found her son that she'd given up. It was more than she could have ever hoped for.

And now she was going to lose it all.

It was too much. The pain, the rejection. It was like every family who had ever given her up, only multiplied by a thousand, because this was _her_ family. They loved her, accepted her, wanted her there. And now she had to leave them behind, let them go away, forget about them for good.

The worst part was that it wasn't their fault. It was hers. She was the Savior. She was supposed to save them, and she had failed. Now Pan's curse was coming to obliterate everything she loved, and the only way for them to be saved was for Regina to curse them again.

She had failed her family again. She'd saved them from the first curse, but lost what mattered most in the end. She could count a hundred ways in her head that she could have saved them. If she'd acted against Tamara sooner. If she'd gotten Henry away from Pan successfully. If she'd killed Pan when she had a chance. If her magic had been powerful enough to combat his curse. If—

Emma took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She couldn't let herself think like this. It brought back too many painful memories of being a child, unloved and unwanted. She was going back to her default emotion, shutting down and putting her walls up.

When she felt her walls in place, cutting her off from her emotion, she opened her eyes again to look at her family. They looked back at her, faces full of love and sadness.

She picked out one person in the crowd, standing off to the side, clad in black leather and a dashing coat. His blue eyes, normally so bright, were dampened by a fierce mood. His good hand was clenched in a fist, his lips pressed tight together as he stared at her as if he couldn't get enough of her.

As she met his eyes, she could feel her walls cracking.

As if drawn by her gaze, he stepped forward, moving closer until he was right in front of her. She could smell his wonderful scent, rum and the ocean breeze. She looked at him, memories flashing through her head.

When she left her foster homes behind, she knew she'd carry the pain of them with her for the rest of her life. She'd have painful memories, reliving them and wondering what she'd done wrong. She wouldn't let herself feel too much, think too much, because it was too hard later on.

But now, she was about to leave him for good, and she wouldn't have any memories to torment her, because she would have a new, cursed life.

So what was a little torment on her heart now, if she was destined to forget?

"Do you know why I left you up on that beanstalk?" she murmured, quiet enough so that only they could hear their conversation. She could feel eyes on them, but she ignored them. Right now, all that mattered was the pirate standing in front of her, and the goodbye that she couldn't get out of her throat .

She didn't want to say goodbye to him.

"Why?"

His voice was deep, rougher than normal, his eyes darkening as he continued to look at her. He didn't flirt, didn't try to get under her skin. It was raw honesty she was looking at right now, and for the first time she was glad she wouldn't remember this. Because if she did, she would spend endless time trying to figure out what emotion was in the heart-wrenching look he was giving her now. And when she finally figured it out, the answer would both thrill and scare her.

"Because I could see past the pirate," Emma said, quietly. "I could see the man you used to be, the man you might have been." She reached out hesitantly with her hand, cupping his jaw with her hand. His eyes closed at the touch.

He was so warm, so alive, and she ached to touch him more.

"Captain Hook was simple to understand," she continued, straining to keep her tone low and even. "But Killian Jones…"

At his name, he opened his eyes, and she saw traces of moisture in the corners of them.

"Killian Jones had the potential to be so much more," she whispered. She didn't realize she was stepping closer to him until they were breathing the same air. "Don't forget that man, Killian."

She heard him exhale her name like a prayer, and then his lips were on hers.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't at all like the first time he had kissed her. This time was gentle, tender, full of hurt emotion and a sad lament at what could have been between them.

Her heart pounded, ached with the knowledge that this was the last time.

When the kiss finally ended, she turned away before he could see the tears in her face. She didn't look back, turning and moving towards her Bug.

She bit the inside of her cheek. She wouldn't cry, damn it. She didn't know what Hook was to her, what he could have been, but the lost chance pained her. She wanted to know, wanted time to figure it out that wasn't full of trying to break some curse or get her son back.

Henry already sat in the car, watching her carefully. She avoided his gaze as she threw the car into gear. He looked back for one final glance, but she knew if she did, she would actually start crying. She didn't want to leave them, and her walls had been shattered.

Taking a deep breath, Emma put her foot on the gas pedal and drove past the Storybrooke line.

"Hey Mom?"

Emma glanced at her son, sitting next to her in the car. He had been tired for most of the car ride as they came back from their long weekend in a beach house on the Maine coast.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Why are you crying?"

Emma frowned, reaching up. There were tears in her eyes, starting to spill over even though she didn't know where they came from. And her lips were tingling, like she'd just been thoroughly kissed, but that was impossible. She must be more tired than she thought.

"I don't know, kid."

* * *

><p><em>The witch strode into the castle, throwing her cloak down in disgust. The royal family irked her to no end. She didn't want to deal with them, but luckily they were just a means to an end. <em>

_ As long as they didn't end her chance before she got her victory. They had finally figured out how to defeat her, with light magic, and she couldn't let them win. _

_ "Dark One," the witch barked, pulling out the dagger. Her emerald skin reflected off the polished blade, gleaming in the darkness of the castle. _

_ She heard the creaking of a spinning wheel and muttering as she strode towards the cage in the middle of the castle. _

_ "You must look into the future," she commanded, drawing her chin up. "Look and tell me if I will succeed." She stood in front of the rusty cage now, staring down at the pitiful wraith of a man before her. _

_ He sat hunched over his spinning wheel, endlessly spinning straw into gold, muttering to himself. His dark and scaly hands flashed as they went about their work. _

_ "I command you, Dark One," she said again, more forcefully, holding up the dagger. _

_ He didn't look up, didn't acknowledge her, but his muttering grew louder. _

_ "Round and round the spinning wheel," he sang, as if talking to himself, his voice bordering on madness. "Your sister's life you wish to steal."_

_ The witch narrowed her eyes, but she let him talk. He was going mad, driven insane by voices in his head. He would talk. _

_ "A child of true love you seek," he continued, still in that singsong voice. "To do your will and havoc wreak."_

_ "Oh, get on with it," she snapped. "I know that part. That's why I needed you. Tell me the future." Her voice raised until she was nearly shouting. _

_ His eyes looked up at hers, and she saw the pitch black darkness of his soul swirling in there. His fingers moved of their own accord, not dictated by what he saw, but what he felt. _

_ "If power of true love you like," he said, his voice deepening a bit, falling back into his old speech, "I know a place where…_gold…_you'll strike."_

_ She stepped forward, curling her fingers around the bars of his cell. He met her eyes, his fingers flashing even faster. She saw a flicker in his eyes, saw his body twitch and gasp, his fingers momentarily falter and a different noise came out of his throat, one from another person. Then Rumplestiltskin was back in control, spinning and muttering to himself. She caught the word _power_. _

_ "I like the sound of that," she murmured. "Tell me about this gold, Dark One."_

_ "A stronger child's yet to come, but there's another land it's from."_

_ The witch frowned. "The land you cursed everyone to? But how—"_

_ "The Savior still lies there in dark. Her curse will break with true love's kiss. She has in her the magic spark, ensuring that your curse won't miss."_

_ The witch narrowed her eyes, stepping back from Rumplestiltskin's cage. It was…frustrating…when he spoke in riddles. She was getting tired of deciphering them. If only the fool hadn't been so blinded by love for his son. _

_ The land without magic. She couldn't curse everyone there in order to get what she wanted. She wouldn't be able to cast the curse. It was what had made Rumplestiltskin give up on her in the first place. But if she could get her hands on the Savior of the curse…_

_ The witch turned around, starting when she saw a bright light starting to glow in the corner. She held up her hand, conjuring flames, ready to throw them at the intruder. _

_ "Please, I do detest fire," a woman's voice said silkily. She emerged out of the shadows, striding forward, her white gown trailing behind her. She held out her hands in peace. "I come to negotiate a deal with you."_

_ The witch straightened up, cupping the flames to herself until she figured out who the eavesdropper was. _

_ "Who are you, and what are you doing in my castle?"_

_ The woman raised her eyebrow. "I wasn't aware this was yours. Last time I was here, it belonged to the Dark One, whom you now have imprisoned in his own castle." She tilted her head, eyeing the cage. "I like that touch." She turned her icy glare towards the witch again. _

_ The witch held up her hand with the flames, and flames shot in every direction to light the iron sconces on the walls and flood the room with light. The woman didn't flinch as fire brushed past her, but the witch saw steam billowing around her, as if she were made of ice. _

_ "That's better," the woman sighed, striding forward. She smiled at the witch. "I'm Ingrid, better known as the Snow Queen of Arendelle."_

_ "Arendelle," the witch mused. She shook her head. "It must be a pitifully small country if I haven't heard of it. I am Zelena, the Witch of the West."_

_ The queen smiled slyly. "I've always heard _wicked_ preceding that title."_

_ The witch sniffed in disdain. "People ascribe evil to those they don't understand."_

_ The queen nodded. "I can empathize with that, sister."_

_ The witch narrowed her eyes. In appearance, this queen reminded her of Glinda, with her white gown and knowing eyes. She had the same royal carriage, not the wide-eyed naivety that Zelena had possessed in Oz. _

_ Zelena turned her back on the queen, striding to the end of the castle. She appeared unbothered by the intruder, putting up a front of confidence and control. "And what kind of deal have you sought me out for?"_

_ "I heard your conversation with the Dark One," the queen said. Zelena paused, turning to look back at her. "I know naught of what you want with the child, but I know you have a better option in another land than this one." _

_ "And what are you trying to offer me?" Zelena asked, aloof. _

_ "A truce. I have my desires; you have yours. I do not believe they must be mutually exclusive."_

_ "What do you know of my desires?" Zelena demanded, whirling around, her black dress spinning around her. _

_ "I know you seek the child of true love," Ingrid said, smiling. "And it sounds like you just got a better offer that you can't get to." Her voice was soft, lilting, ready to make a proposition. "What if I told you I could get you there?"_

_ Zelena let out a bark of laughter. "And what do you want out of me in return?" She sauntered back to face the queen. _

_ Ingrid's face softened as her gaze dropped down. "I have my own family troubles I wish solved. A fresh start, that's what I want."_

_ Zelena narrowed her eyes. This woman offered her a way to get to the Land Without Magic, where the Savior was. And if what Rumplestiltskin said was right, that woman had the potential to give her a much stronger child. But it would take time, more time…_

_ He also said the curse wouldn't miss if she used that child. She would succeed, whereas she might not if she only used Snow White's new child. She'd spent so much time deciphering old texts, trying to figure out the time travel spell, and finally she thought she'd done it. But to ensure her success…_

_ Zelena eyed the woman, considering her. The snow queen seemed so frail and quaint, standing there quietly in the corner. She would be no threat to Zelena's plans, especially if they struck a deal where both of them got what they wanted. If she could cast the curse, then Zelena could have the child of true love from the Savior. _

_ "I believe, my dear Ingrid, that we will be able to find a compromise we are both happy with," Zelena promised, holding out her hand. _

_ The snow queen gave her a happy smile, her eyes starting to fill with tears as she took the witch's hand to seal their promise. "Thank you, Zelena."_

_ Zelena looked at Rumplestiltskin, still muttering madly to himself. "Let us go talk somewhere else." She waved her hand, and the two women disappeared in a column of green smoke. _

_ As soon as they disappeared, Rumplestiltskin gave a great gasp, falling off his chair in a seizure. He thrashed on the floor, his face rapidly shifting between Baelfire and Rumplestiltskin. _

_ "Did I mention one last part?" Baelfire croaked, groaning in pain. _

_ "Take her babe, she'll take…your heart," Rumplestiltskin finished, collapsing limply on the ground. _


	2. The Pirate's Kiss

**Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time, nor do I profit in any way from this. **

Emma slid the plate of food down on the table in front of Henry, who dropped the book he was reading. She grabbed two hot chocolates—their Friday morning special—off the counter, plopping one down in front of him and one in front of her.

"Cinnamon," Henry reminded her, as she went to sit down.

"Whoops," Emma said, getting back up and going to the cabinet. She had just pulled the door open when she heard a pounding on the door.

Emma paused, glancing down the hallway towards the door. She didn't know who could be coming by at this time of the morning. It was barely seven o'clock, and she hadn't planned on anyone coming by. She glanced at Henry, who shrugged.

"Don't look at me," he said. "Probably for you. Work?"

Emma's brow furrowed as she closed the cabinet door. She shook her head. "I don't know. I don't think I had anyone who was supposed to come over. Besides, I was supposed to have this whole weekend off, including today."

Henry gave her an "oh well" look, turning back to his food and drinking his hot chocolate even without cinnamon.

Emma headed for the door. She peered through the peephole, frowning as she caught sight of the man pacing uneasily in front of the door, hands folded behind his back.

She saw a sweeping leather coat, an old-time look to his clothes, with his black button up shirt opened to show the beginning of his chest. He raised his fist to pound on the door again, and several rings glittered on his fingers.

She pulled open the door before he could hit it, catching him with his arm raised. Several impressions hit her at once.

Gleaming rings. Bright blue eyes and a jawline covered with scruff. His long, black coat with the golden buttons, and his lips turned up in a smug smile. A silver hook instead of a left hand.

Emma's eyes widened, the images tugging at the back of her mind as if they were part of a faint memory—like déjà vu or a dream—but she had never seen him before…had she?

"Swan," he breathed, and she didn't have a moment to register the fact that he knew her name before he was striding forward and wrapping his arms around her to pull her into a deep kiss.

Her mind rebelled, but her traitor body responded as if she'd done this before, as if she'd felt this man's hard muscles pressed up against her, like she knew how those lips devoured hers. Her hands reached up to respond. It had been far too long since she had been kissed at all, much less this thoroughly.

Suddenly, a shiver ran through her body and she stumbled back, pressing her fingers to her tingling lips. Memories were flying through her head, images flashing through her brain faster than she could comprehend them.

Henry, lying lifeless on a hospital bed.

A ruined nursery that should have been hers.

A dragon roaring.

Neal, smiling at her.

Pan's gloating laugh.

Ruby's cheeky smile.

David's protective arms.

Snow's loving embrace.

Hook, kissing Emma, saying goodbye with a tear in his eye.

All those emotions that had shattered Emma's walls that day came crashing back into her, slamming into her like a ton of bricks.

"Swan?" Hook's voice was tentative, hesitant.

Emma's fist swung out without thought, acting on instinct, clipping the pirate on the jaw to send him reeling.

"What the hell, Hook?" she demanded, straightening up and shaking her hair back out of her eyes. "What was that for?"

"Mom?" Henry's concerned voice came out of the kitchen. "Are you okay?"

Emma took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts. It was all coming back to her. Pan, the curse, how the whole last year she and Henry had been living off fake memories, until Hook had somehow shown up and broken the curse by…kissing her?

"Be back in a minute, Henry. Someone from work," Emma called back. "Just talking." She pulled the door closed behind her, moving into the hallway.

She crossed her arms, rounding on Hook, who stood there with a satisfied smirk on his face. "What did you do?" she hissed. A part of her was glad to see Hook. A larger part of her was pissed that he'd just shown up and practically assaulted her to kiss her.

Though she supposed she had done most of the assaulting, given that punch she had given him. She just didn't tolerate people walking up and randomly kissing her. Ever.

Hook tilted his head slightly as he studied her, the corners of his lips turning up in a slight smile. "I'd have thought that was quite obvious, love." His steady gaze unnerved her, as if he was trying to figure something out about her.

"You did not just break my curse by kissing me," Emma said, giving him a disparaging look. Only true love's kiss broke a curse. Hook wasn't her true love. No one was. "So what happened?"

He raised an eyebrow, his face growing more cocky by the minute. "You were cursed. I kissed you. Now you're not. I think you can fill in the blanks."

She hated that smug smirk. She'd thought of Hook, yes, thought of kissing him, thought of seeing where their relationship could go. That didn't mean he was her true love, and she hadn't seen him in a year. She hadn't even thought of him for the past year, though that wasn't entirely her fault. He shouldn't have been able to break her curse.

"That was not true love's kiss," she said, hating herself for even saying the words and giving validity to his theory.

Hook's smug look faltered momentarily, confusion and doubt flickering across his face, but he shook it off by winking at her. "Tell yourself that all you want, love."

She hated how much she liked that accent, that she felt like she had missed it, even though she hadn't thought of him in a year.

Emma sighed, turning away from Hook and rubbing her temple. She didn't feel like dealing with the pirate this early in the morning. "Just as insufferable as I remember," she muttered.

A sudden thought struck her, one she'd been so baffled by the kiss that she'd totally even forgotten existed.

She turned towards Hook, giving him a confused look. "Don't take this the wrong way, but…what the hell are you doing here? I thought that—the curse—"

The smug look slid off Hook's face, and his expression darkened. This one wasn't hesitant, but heavy with knowledge. "I don't think it's good news, love."

Emma crossed her arms, waiting for an answer. Hook sighed.

"Storybrooke is back."

Her eyes widened. "How?"

Hook pursed his lips together. "I think they're in trouble. But before I tell you that, you ought to give this to your lad." He reached into his leather coat and pulled out a small vial, handing it to Emma.

She eyed it, then glared at him. "Is this a memory potion?"

"Aye."

"And why didn't you use it on me?"

Hook's eyes met hers, and his looked open and vulnerable. "I needed to know if the kiss would work." His accent thickened with his words, his tone gruff.

Emma saw the trace of hesitation in his eyes. He was using the smug looks and the cocky comments as a front. He was hiding his emotions, something she was used to doing. But even though it had been a year since she'd seen him, she was still able to read his expressions easily.

She pushed aside the implications of his words and shook her head in annoyance, brushing past him to go inside the apartment.

"Stay," she commanded, turning around and holding up a hand when Hook went to follow her. "Let me handle this."

Hook swept out a hand, letting her go. "I like a woman who takes control," he said grandly, stepping back and waiting.

She closed the door, leaning against it and taking a moment to compose herself.

Storybrooke was back. Hook had just kissed her and somehow broken her curse, and she told herself it couldn't have been because of true love, because he wasn't her true love. There was trouble in Storybrooke, and Hook would tell her after she gave the memory potion to Henry, so he would remember everything.

Emma nodded in reassurance to herself, moving into the kitchen where Henry was just finishing up his breakfast. He went to get up.

"Hold on, kid," Emma said, sliding into the seat across from him. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Henry frowned at the tone in her voice, dropping back down into his seat. "Sure. What's up? Does it have to do with that work thing?"

Emma stared at her son. Her son, that she thought she'd had for the past thirteen years, and who in reality she'd only known for a couple. This last year had been a lie, a fabrication of a curse. He'd grown older in this past year, shot up in height. He wasn't the same kid that Pan had taken over, the same little boy that had shown up in her apartment in Boston so many years ago.

Emma sighed, pulling the vial on the table between them. "Sort of. This has to do with that person, but it wasn't related to work."

Henry just watched her as she tried to figure out what to say, how to get him to drink the vial.

"He's an old friend," Emma said hesitantly. She closed her eyes, pushing the vial across the table towards Henry. When she opened her eyes, he was giving her a confused look.

"What's that?" he asked warily.

"There are some things I need to tell you, Henry," Emma said, meeting his eyes and leaning forward. "Do you trust me?"

He nodded. "Yes, of course, but—"

"Then I need you to drink that."

Henry picked up the vial. "Mom, I don't know what's going on."

Emma sighed, resting her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. "Please, Henry, if you trust me, and know that I always want what's best for you, you have to drink that."

Henry looked at her, and then nodded resolutely. "Okay." He picked up the vial, pulled out the little cork, and then put it up to his lips. He didn't hesitate as he downed the contents in the little blue bottle.

He gasped, his hand jerking away and dropping the vial. It clattered as it bounced across the table, rolling to a stop in front of Emma's hands. He looked at Emma with wide eyes.

"Mom, I—I remember!"

Emma smiled wearily, leaning back in her seat. "Glad it worked, kid."

Henry gave her a suspicious look. "You said an old friend was here. Who?"

She waved her hand towards the door. "He's still out there. Go let him in. I didn't want him to come in when you didn't know who he was."

Eyes alight and grinning widely, Henry jumped up and ran to the door. Emma dropped her head in her hands again, rubbing the palms of her hands into her eyes. She couldn't believe this was happening. Her whole world was being turned upside down—again. And now she and Henry were about to uproot their life here in New York and go to save Storybrooke from a curse.

Again.

And she couldn't help but remember how last time she had failed to save Storybrooke, and that was how she and Henry had ended up here.

"Captain Hook!" Henry exclaimed. "You're here!"

"Good to see you, lad," Hook's voice came as they walked through the doorway. Henry bounced excitedly into the kitchen, Hook strolling in behind him. "See, love, he even remembered the _Captain_ bit."

"How are you here?" Henry demanded, turning around to face Hook. "Does this mean Storybrooke is back? Did you give my mom a memory potion too? How did you know where to find us?"

Hook held up his hand. "Slow down a moment, lad. One question at a time."

Henry pressed his lips together, trying to hold back.

"Is everyone else back? How did you leave Storybrooke? Is your Jolly Roger—"

"Henry," Emma called, sitting up at the table and leaning back. "I know you're excited, but cool it, kid. Let the pirate breathe." She caught a look of consternation on the pirate's face, a flicker of sadness through his eyes, and then it was gone and he was grinning down at Henry, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Why don't you let me do the talking?" He said. He walked to the tale, gesturing at it. "May I?"

Emma nodded, getting up from the table as Hook and Henry both sat down. If she was going to make it through this conversation, she needed something stronger than hot chocolate. She set the coffee pot to brew, then sat down. She purposefully sat down at a seat on a corner opposite Hook, so she didn't have to sit next to him or feel obligated to keep looking directly at him.

"So what happened?" Henry prompted, thankfully keeping it to one question this time.

Hook took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. He rested his good hand on the table, his fingers tapping the wood restlessly.

"It's been a year since Pan's curse and we ended up back in the Enchanted Forest," Hook began, frowning down at the table. "I'd been sailing for quite some time when I received a bird with a note telling me that a curse was coming. It told me I had to find you, and gave me that memory potion." He shrugged, leaving the rest as self-explanatory.

Emma frowned, watching him. There was something he wasn't saying, something that caused that sadness in his eyes, but it was only a bare trace. She wouldn't press it right now.

"A note?" Emma asked skeptically. "Who would have sent that?"

Hook shrugged. "Your parents, I presumed."

"Did you give my mom a memory potion too?" Henry piped up. Hook opened his mouth to answer, but Emma beat him to it.

"Yes," she said firmly, glancing at Hook out of the corner of her eye. He pressed his lips together, dipping his head in acquiescence. There was no way that she was telling Henry that Hook had given her back her memories by _kissing_ her. He'd read all sorts of things into that, and she didn't even know how she felt about it. She didn't need her son, the truest believer, going on about true love's kiss breaking curses.

Henry nodded. "So Storybrooke's back, and we're going back. When do we leave?" He straightened up, looking at Emma.

She took a deep breath, brushing her hair out of her face as a distraction to give herself something to do instead of look at her eager son. "You're not going to school today, kid," she said, and Henry let out a whoop of excitement.

"I'm going to go pack," he said excitedly, getting up and nearly running out of the room again, leaving her alone with Hook once more.

"I have a question for you, love," Hook said, leaning forward towards her. She got up, going to the counter to pour her mug of coffee. She took a large swallow of the bitter drink, needing it to clear her head. "Satisfy my curiosity. Did you tell the lad it was a memory potion because he was your son, or because you are now going to pretend the kiss never happened?" He watched her, eyes waiting, open with the honest question.

Emma pursed her lips, looking at the leather clad pirate out of a fairy tale sitting at her kitchen table in her modern apartment. "I have a lot to deal with right now, Hook. I woke up this morning a different person with a different life, and now I'm heading back to my old life. Just give me some time."

Hook nodded, leaning back and lounging in his chair. "I will always give you the time you need, love."

She turned away, ignoring the sincerity of his words, and how much she knew them to be true. He wasn't just talking about right now.

"I'm going to go pack," Emma mumbled. "Just entertain yourself." She disappeared into her bedroom before Hook could see the panicked expression that was coming across her face as she realized what was happening to her.

Emma fled to her room, closing the bedroom door firmly behind her and leaning against it, closing her eyes. Everything was coming back to her, all her memories. They were taking their time to trickle back, but she had everything now.

Including the goodbye she'd given Hook—_Killian_.

She'd told him he was a good man, that he couldn't forget who he really was. She didn't know if he'd remembered that, and kept to it, or what had happened to him in the past year.

God, it had been a year since she'd seen him, though it felt like so much more. Her two sets of memories warred with each other, making the time feel much longer.

And that kiss. She put her fingers to her lips, remembering that kiss they'd shared when they were saying goodbye. That kiss had said everything Emma was unable to put into words.

The fact that Killian Jones might have started working his way into her heart.

The fact that she was letting her walls down for those last few moments with him, that she was letting him in and letting him see her as she was.

The fact that even though she'd told Hook that the kiss in Neverland was a one time thing, they both knew it meant far too much for that to be true.

The kiss had bared her emotions towards him. She'd let her walls down, because she'd thought she'd never see him again. And now…now he was back, and her walls were already shattered and he was inside them, and that was a dangerous place for him to be.

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She needed to focus on what had to be done. To keep moving forward methodically, plodding through her day. She would get through this like she got through any other tough day, disconnecting herself from her emotions and ignoring them.

She would pack right now. And then, as soon as both she and Henry were ready, they would drive to Storybrooke. Once they were there, they would go see their family and figure out what was happening in the fairy tale town.

The thought of seeing her family made a smile come over Emma's face. Yes, there had been all sorts of ups and downs with them, but she had just rediscovered she had an entire family who loved her and was waiting for her to come save them.

That last thought allowed Emma to compose herself, straightening up and leaving her emotions behind. She had several tasks to get through right now, and she would put up walls so Hook wouldn't get in her way while she was trying to take care of them.

And then, once everything had calmed down and she had figured out a few more things, then she would figure out the pirate.


	3. Welcome to Storybrooke

Emma stared at the green door, seeing the faded keyhole. It was so familiar, all of it. Everything looked exactly as she had remembered it, even though she knew Storybrooke had disappeared and then returned.

"This is crazy," Emma muttered, then raised her hand to knock on the door.

It opened slowly to reveal David standing there, a surprised expression on his face. Neither of them spoke, just stared at each other in amazement.

"Emma?" David asked tentatively.

"David," Emma said, sighing in relief. It was real. He was there. She rushed forward and hugged him, burying her head in his shoulder. She felt the moment of surprise in his hesitation, but then he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back.

"You're here," he said in amazement, pulling back and holding her at arms length to look at her. "But—Henry!" He turned his attention from Emma to Henry, who gave David just as exuberant of a hug. David straightened back up, giving Hook a small smile. "Even Hook. You're all here. But how?"

Emma sighed. "Long story. Can we come in?"

"Of course," David said, moving aside so they could all congregate in the small loft.

"Is Mary Margaret here?" Emma asked. She crossed her arms. "Storybrooke's really back."

"Yeah. How did you…" David trailed off, shaking his head. "But there's something you need to know first, before you see her."

"Was that—did I hear Emma?" Mary Margaret's voice came from upstairs.

Emma glanced up the stairs to see her mother starting to walk down the stairs. Her eyes widened as she took in the awkward way Mary Margaret waddled down the stairs, one hand on her stomach, the other gripping the rail tightly. The way she walked sideways, as if she couldn't see down over her large stomach.

Mary Margaret was pregnant. _Really _pregnant.

"Emma!" As soon as Mary Margaret reached the bottom step, she moved quickly towards Emma, pulling her into a hug. Emma tried to hug her back, but could only get so close to her because of her stomach. Mary Margaret seriously looked like she was about to pop.

Emma stood there in stunned silence, staring at Mary Margaret and trying to figure out how that had happened while Mary Margaret greeted Henry.

"And Hook!" Mary Margaret exclaimed. "We were wondering where you were." She moved to the pirate and hugged him as well. He froze for a moment, then reached up and awkwardly returned the hug with one arm. He gave Emma a look that was a cross between a death glare and a _help me_, and it shook Emma out of her stunned reverie.

"Okay, I think we both have a lot of explaining to do," Emma said, shaking her head and trying to reconcile herself to the fact that Mary Margaret, her mother, was pregnant after having not seen her for a year. This wasn't the image she remembered or expected to come home to.

"We're here and can't remember how, and now you're here and we don't know how that happened," Mary Margaret said in disbelief, shaking her head as she went to stand next to David, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Wait—you don't know how?" Emma said, frowning at her parents as she leaned against the counter. Henry hopped into a bar stool, while Hook stood awkwardly off to the side next to the kitchen table.

Mary Margaret gave David a concerned look. "We don't remember the past year."

David shrugged. "We just remember saying goodbye to you and expecting to go back to the Enchanted Forest, but then everything went dark and we woke up like any other morning in Storybrooke, only you and Henry were gone, and…_this_…had happened." He gestured towards Mary Margaret's stomach. "Clearly time passed, we just don't remember. It's been a few days."

"You did make it back to the Enchanted Forest a year ago," Hook spoke up, drawing all the eyes towards him. Emma noticed he didn't seem to be completely comfortable with all the attention, but he kept talking anyway. "The Queen's curse worked and we all made it back. Last I saw, you lot were headed back to your castle, but I left after a few days to go find my ship."

"You have your memories?" Mary Margaret asked. "How?"

Hook took a deep breath. "I wasn't cursed like you." He explained how the note had come, telling him to find Emma, and how he'd gone to bring her back. Thankfully, he kept to Emma's story about having two memory potions. She would have to tell her parents eventually, but she didn't want Henry to hear. And she didn't know if she really wanted to tell both her parents. Given David's reaction in Neverland when he'd heard that Hook had kissed Emma…

Emma shook off those thoughts and turned her attention back to the moment at hand. Neverland was not something she needed to be thinking about right now.

Both of her parents gave her concerned, disbelieving looks. "Who could have sent you that note?" Mary Margaret asked.

Hook frowned. "I thought you did."

"A bird and a note does sound like something you'd do," David murmured to Mary Margaret, and she shrugged in acknowledgement.

"If it wasn't us, who could have done it?" Mary Margaret asked in concern. "Apparently someone cursed us here, and they took our memories from the Enchanted Forest. So who was that?"

There was silence for a few moments as everyone tried to figure out what to say.

"Well, we do know there's one person already capable of casting this curse," Hook said, speaking into the silence again. Mary Margaret's eyes widened, and Emma dropped her gaze. She had wanted to believe that Regina had changed, and something had told her that Regina had, but she didn't know what to think. Hook did have a point.

"Wait," Henry said, frowning as he looked between Hook and Emma. "You think my mom—my other mom—did this?"

"She did cast the first one," David said, his tone dark.

"But I thought she changed," Mary Margaret protested, looking up at David in earnest.

Emma agreed, but she didn't want to say so out loud. "I'll talk to Regina," Emma said, pushing herself off the counter so she was standing. "I'll know if she cast the curse or not."

"But she didn't," Henry protested.

Emma reached out, squeezing Henry's shoulder. "I don't think she did, kid, but I have to see. Maybe she'll have an idea of who did."

"Let's leave that for tomorrow," Mary Margaret blurted out. Emma looked at her, and Mary Margaret stepped forward to take her hand. "We were separated, and we're finally back together again. It's a chance we thought we'd never had. Let's go to Granny's and have dinner and celebrate."

Emma's lips twitched, giving Mary Margaret a grudging smile. "Alright." She bounced on the balls of her feet. She really wanted to figure out what the hell was going on here, and how her family had ended up back here.

As they were all walking down the street towards Granny's, Emma realized that Hook had fallen behind. He wasn't walking with them. She left Henry to walk with David and Mary Margaret, chatting animatedly about the past year that had happened between them.

Emma dropped back to walk with the pirate, who was walking much slower than them. "Hey, Hook," she said, putting her hands in her pockets and looking down at her feet as she walked.

"Swan," he greeted, voice gruff. He didn't look at her either.

"What are you going to do…now that we're back?" she asked.

"Taking care of a few things. No need to worry about me, love," Hook said, giving her a faint smile.

"I'm hardly _worrying _about you."

"Maybe I'll stroll around town. Find what this new curse brought," Hook murmured.

"Hey, tomorrow…will you help me try to figure out what happened?" Emma asked. "Since you're the only one with any memories." That wasn't the real reason she had wanted to talk to him more, but it was true. He was her best bet for figuring out how her family had landed back here.

Hook shrugged. "Happy to be of service, love."

Emma hesitated, finally glancing up at Hook. Thoughts bounced around in her mind, but most of all she was just confused. Confused about what she felt, confused about what she thought, confused about what she wanted to do about this pirate that she didn't want to say goodbye to then and didn't want to say goodbye to now.

"You know you're welcome to…eat with us, right?" Emma asked, clearing her throat.

Hook gave a dry chuckle. "I was under the impression this was a family reunion, love. A pirate hardly counts as a member of the royal family." A strange look flitted across his face, but then he pushed it away.

Emma shook her head. "You brought me back. They owe you. No one will mind." She was making up excuses, but at least they were decent ones.

"Love, if you're so eager to keep me at your side, all you have to do is ask." He winked at her, and she looked away, scowling.

"Just didn't want to reward you for bringing me back by throwing you out into the cold," Emma said, quickening her stride to rejoin her parents and son.

Granny's diner was just the kind of reunion that Emma had been expecting. Lots of hugs, dwarves, laughter, smiling, talking, gushing—it was all too much for her. She smiled back, hugged people, talked back, told them about the past year that she could remember and they didn't, but eventually all of it grew old. She was still trying to adjust, and here she was thrown back into the thick of things.

She loved her family, there were just a lot of them. And they could be a lot in themselves.

"Emma!" Yet another joyful voice cried her name. This voice also had an accent different than most of the Enchanted Forest, but it wasn't the same as Hook's. She could listen to Hook's for hours.

Emma put a smile on her face, biting back the weariness, and turned to face Belle, giving her a hug. Emma wasn't much for the hugs, but everyone else here seemed to be, so she did it back.

"Hey, Belle," Emma said. She gave Belle a sympathetic look. "How are you doing with this? Are you okay?" She imagined it must feel like Belle had just lost Mr. Gold, which was a hard transition, even if it had been a year ago.

Belle put on a brave smile. "I don't know what happened in the past year, but I'm doing okay right now. I miss him, of course, but I'm okay. He saved us."

Emma nodded, leaning back in her bar stool. "Yes he did."

Belle cleared her throat. "It's great to see you and all, but I also came to find you for another reason." She held out an envelope that Emma hadn't realized she was holding.

Emma frowned taking it. She saw the name _Emma _written in elegant font on the envelope.

"It showed up in the shop a day or two ago," Belle said. "I found it sitting on the counter. I don't know what's in it, but those feel like keys."

Emma tilted the envelope. It did feel like there were several keys inside. Frowning, she ripped open the wax seal—who used wax seals anymore?—and peered inside.

Three small keys sat in there, along with a couple of papers. She pulled them out, scanning them.

Emma's eyes widened. "They're the deeds to an apartment—in my name." She glanced at the keys, realizing what they were. "And you don't know how this ended up there?"

Belle shook her head. "No. Just found it. Maybe it's part of this new curse, like you belong here."

Emma nodded, reading over the papers. "Well, thanks, Belle. I'll check it out and let you know when I find out more."

Belle smiled, and Emma could see she wasn't the only one trying to hold some emotions in check. Belle wasn't as fine as she appeared, and after she said her goodbyes to Emma she slipped out the front door.

Emma turned her attention back to the deeds. It was another loft apartment in Mary Margaret's complex. Emma wasn't sure, but judging by the number she thought it was the one across the hall from Mary Margaret's, the one she thought was never occupied.

Emma sighed, rubbing her temples. This was beginning to be too much. First her curse was broken with a possible true love's kiss. She didn't know if it was or wasn't, or if she wanted it to be or not. She didn't know if she wanted Hook thinking it was true love's kiss or that it wasn't. She needed to talk to him. And her parents. Or at least Mary Margaret.

Then she had come back, and all of this was real. She remembered why she had been so exhausted all the time in Storybrooke before. She'd hardly been here five minutes before they were talking about who could have cast the curse on storybrooke, and who could possibly be after them now, and it reminded her of everything that had happened here before. She hadn't saved them from Pan's curse, and she'd had to leave them behind. This was her chance to redeem herself, and she couldn't afford to screw it up.

And now, with this apartment that was apparently hers, it was too much. She didn't want anything to feel so permanent so quickly, because that wasn't how she functioned. If this was part of the curse, she didn't know if she wanted to be such a permanent part. If it wasn't part of the curse, she didn't know if she was just being manipulated. She doubted her parents had left it for her as inheritance.

She just didn't want to deal with it all. That had been a good part of her life in New York—it had been a normal life. No true love's kiss, no curses, no strange apartments that randomly belonged to her. No pirate that she couldn't get out of her head.

Emma quietly excused herself and stepped outside, needing the fresh air. The air was brisk and cool, just what she liked in early fall, clearing her thoughts. She needed to be alone right now.

Emma closed her eyes, standing outside. She tried to still her thoughts and failed.

The biggest issue was Hook. When she'd said goodbye to him, kissed him like that, she had expected that was the final goodbye. She let herself think of all the possibilities, break down her walls and rules, because she thought she would never have to deal with it again. She wouldn't have done any of that, looked at him, touched him, kissed him, if she'd known he'd be coming back to her.

She hadn't said much to Hook in her goodbye, but she hadn't needed to say much. Everything that Hook had needed to know had been in her eyes and the kiss she had given him. That kiss had been full of emotion and love and sadness and grief, unlike the kiss they'd shared in Neverland that had been full of raw passion and desire and unresolved tension.

She ran from people. One night stands, hiding from emotions, not staying in one place too long.

"You alright, Swan?"

The voice came from behind her as she heard the tinkling of the diner door.

Emma sighed, opening her eyes. She didn't look at him, just looked out at the street. "Don't really want to talk right now, Hook."

"You mean you don't want to talk to me."

He stood behind her. She could hear him. She imagined she could almost feel his presence, like she knew how he would stand there, an eyebrow raised as he waited for her quick response, his hook at his side, his eyes boring into the back of her head.

"Exactly."

"Well you're in luck, love, because I know how to wait for you," he said lightly, without any emotion or judgment. She heard the brushing of leather as he moved, heard the scraping of a chair as it was pulled out and he settled himself down in it.

Emma didn't move, her arms crossed as she stared out at the street.

"And if you want a drink, I'd be happy to oblige," he said, his words accompanied by the sound of what could only be the cork popping out of his flask.

Emma dropped her head in acceptance. She didn't want to face Hook, but they had to talk sooner or later. And she could probably use a drink. Hating herself, she turned and sat down across from Hook.

He flashed her a grin and held out his flask.

Rolling her eyes, she took it and tipped it up to her lips. It was bitter and vile as it went down her throat. She'd never been one for drinking rum, but a sip was needed now.

She leaned back in her seat, holding up the flask and looking at it.

"Do you remember when you poured it over my cut hand, up on top of that beanstalk?" Emma asked, handing the flask back. She crossed her arms. "I hated that, by the way," she added. "It burned."

Hook gave a small chuckle. "Then it did its job."

The silence fell between them again as Emma thought about how he had insisted on taking care of her hand, insisted on wrapping it in a bandage and how he had tied it with his good hand and his mouth. The thought made her smile a bit as she glanced down at her lap.

"I know why you wanted to say it was a memory potion, not a kiss, that restored your memories," Hook said abruptly into the silence. Her eyes flickered up to him, but he was looking down at the flask into his hand, as if feigning disinterest. "You didn't want to say it was a kiss because of what that might have meant." His voice was quiet, his accent thickening.

"Hook," Emma began, and then stopped. She cursed internally, hating herself for wanting to let her walls down again. "I don't know how I feel, and I don't want to deal with that right now."

He hardly looked as if he had heard her, taking another swig of rum. "Swan, I didn't know if that kiss would work. I didn't even know if I wanted it to."

Emma had almost forgotten how similar she and Hook were. She hadn't wanted to think that maybe, underneath that smug smirk he had given her after he kissed her, he wondered what that meant too. With his swaggering cockiness and flirting ways, it was easy to forget that he could share her insecurities.

"I thought I knew what love was," he murmured, fiddling with his fingers on the flask. "I thought I loved Milah, and couldn't ever love another woman. This is completely different." He looked up at Emma, his bright blue eyes darkening with a storm as he studied her seriously.

"I didn't think that kiss would bloody work," he muttered, shaking his head. "I don't know if it is that buggering true love your parents are so fond of, but I thought that would feel different."

He set the flask down, and Emma pressed her lips together. He had more things to say, judging by the way he stared so intently at his fingers.

"This," Hook said, gesturing between them with his fingers, "There is something here, Swan, you can't deny it. I don't think it's true love, and I don't know if I quite hold stock in that nonsense. But…" his voice faltered, and his eyes dropped. "You're a bloody amazing woman, Swan, to make me _want_ it to be that nonsense."

He drew back, sweeping up his flask and depositing it inside his coat. "I know you're busy being the Savior. You've always been busy being the Savior, and as soon as you remembered Storybrooke you started being the Savior again. But if you find time for Emma, for me, I'd like to see what _this _is." He gave her a look that sent a thrill down her spine, making it clear that he meant whatever was going on between them. He shoved his seat back and got up, starting to walk away.

Emma tapped her fingers against the table, trying to decide what to do. She'd hardly said a word to Hook, but he'd said everything that she'd felt as well. It was all that needed to be said, to be laid out on the table between them.

"Hook," Emma called, turning around in her chair. "Wait a sec."

He paused, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"Do you have a place to stay, in Storybrooke?" She was pretty sure he didn't have an apartment somewhere, and people hadn't been the friendliest to him when he was inside the diner. He was still an outcast, still the infamous Captain Hook to most of Storybrooke.

Hook gave her a smirk, and she could tell the swagger was back on his face. She wasn't the only one with walls. "Worrying about me again, love?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "If you give me crap every time I try to do something nice for you, I'll stop doing it."

"No, you won't."

She grumbled, but knew he was right. She plunged forward with her next words before she could decide against them.

"If you need a place to crash, I apparently have an apartment. Across from Mary Margaret's. You're welcome to it," Emma said. "And it's cheaper than Granny's."

He raised an eyebrow. "What does it cost?"

Emma bit her lip, wondering how bold she was. "A kiss."

"To be collected now or at a later date?" Hook asked, his smirk giving way to a smile.

"Later."

He nodded. "Fair offer, love. I'll consider it." He winked at her, striding away down the street.

Emma watched him walk away, wondering if she'd have the guts to lay out her emotions like he did.

She did have to give him credit.

* * *

><p><em> The two women materialized in a forest clearing. They struck a deep contrast to one another. One had pale skin, dirty blonde hair tumbling down around her shoulders, the other skin in a deep shade of emerald, with her chestnut hair pulled to one side underneath her hat. One was clad in deep black, the other in a white so pure it glittered. <em>

_ "I dislike talking near the Dark One," Zelena said dismissively, moving to stand near a fallen log. She snapped her fingers, and the tree seemed to come to life again, branches sprouting and entwining themselves into a makeshift throne that she settled herself down on. "He may be driven quite mad, but he still has a brilliant mind, and I'd rather him not get any ideas."_

_ "Sounds like he has enough already," Ingrid said, smiling as she waved her hand. The ground froze over, a white patch spreading and rising into another throne, larger than the witch's. Zelena sniffed in distaste. _

_ "So you think you will be able to cast the Dark Curse," Zelena said in disdain, eyeing Ingrid. _

_ Ingrid's smile widened as she leaned back in her seat. "I know I will be able to." She folded her hands in her lap as she lounged, the perfect picture of royalty at ease. _

_ Zelena leaned her head on her hand, propping her elbow up on the arm of her throne. "And what is it you seek with this curse?"_

_ Ingrid's eyes dropped demurely, and her shoulders sunk. "I already told you. A fresh start, with my niece. I only met her this past year, and I'm afraid she has gotten the wrong impression of me." She raised her eyes to meet Zelena's. "I'm sure you can understand that—people not understanding you, us, because of our differences."_

_ Zelena raised an eyebrow in contemplation. "How will the curse help with this?"_

_ "I wish to cast a memory curse," Ingrid said dismissively. "An easy one to cast, though one of this magnitude will be even easier with a completely fresh start. Give her a new set of memories of our life, good ones, in a new world."_

_ Zelena studied the Snow Queen, who met her eyes levelly. "You wish to go back and change your life and do it over again."_

_ "Yes."_

_ Zelena nodded. _

_ The Snow Queen raised an eyebrow, tilting her head as she regarded the black witch. "And you…what it is you desire in the Land Without Magic? How will this child of true love help you?"_

_ "I too wish a fresh start," Zelena said, shrugging in distaste. "I have my own family issues. The child is my chance at a new life."_

_ The two women regarded each other, studying the other. They saw the similarities between them—the way pride raised their chins, the way their eyes held the pain of past familial troubles. And the numerous differences they saw were as different as the colors of their gowns. _

_ "As I said, I believe we may be able to help each other," Ingrid said, glancing down at her fingers and examining her hand. "A mutual deal, to help and then part ways with a promise of non-interference."_

_ "You only wish to have your neice?" Zelena asked sharply.  
>Ingrid gave Zelena a sad smile. "I only want a family that loves me."<em>

_ "What do you want from me?" Zelena asked warily. "You offer to cast the curse and help me, yet I do not see where I help you in this _mutual_ deal."_

_ Ingrid shrugged. "I know the theory of the Dark Curse, though only the Dark One truly knows how to cast it. I would require his knowledge. In addition…" She dropped her eyes, letting out a deep breath. "Merely the promise that those I claim as family be left alone."_

_ "Those you claim?" Zelena repeated, tilting her head. "Why the specificity of words?" Those who learned to use magic, survived it, had learned the importance of specificity. Neither of them would fall prey to a misworded deal. _

_ Ingrid shook her head. "Family is more than blood, and indeed blood sometimes counts for little. No, there is another niece that I do not claim as family. If I don't claim the girl, then I don't care what happens to her. But the one I do claim as family…" she smiled at Zelena, her teeth unnaturally white. "I wish you to leave her untouched."_

_ Zelena leaned back in her wooden throne, considering the words. "Very well. If you ask this of me, then I will ask in return. The child of true love, when I find it, is mine. The power belongs to me."_

_ Ingrid smiled at Zelena. "I will not touch the child of true love."_

_ "And I will not touch those you claim."_

_ At their uttered oaths, a ripple of magic washed through the clearing._

* * *

><p><strong>I'm surprised by the response this story has gotten, and it thrills me, so thanks for that. I'm excited to see where this is going to go-I have a lot planned out, but a lot is still surprising me too. <strong>


	4. A Brewing Storm

Emma made her way quietly down the stairs in the morning, leaving Henry to sleep alone in the bed they had shared. She found Mary Margaret making a cup of coffee in the kitchen, but David was nowhere to be seen.

Mary Margaret passed her a cup of coffee without Emma even asking, and Emma smiled at her as she curled her fingers around the warm mug. She leaned against the counter, sipping the bitter liquid and letting it wake her up.

"Where's David?" Emma asked, keeping her voice low so she didn't disturb Henry. It was still early in the morning, so she didn't see why David would be gone. She could hear the wind outside rattling the shutters, and was pretty sure she heard rain beating on the glass as well.

"He's been doing sheriff duties for the last few days, since you haven't been here," Mary Margaret said, going to sit down at the table. Emma followed her. "And we've been trying to organize a town meeting the last few days, which definitely needs to happen now that you're here and we can make a plan."

Emma took a deep breath at the idea of making a plan. Here it was—her chance to be the Savior, to break this new curse and redeem herself for failing the last time.

Mary Margaret frowned, reaching out and picking up an envelope that had been discarded on the table. "What's this?"

Emma glanced at it, shaking her head. "I'm not quite sure. Belle said it showed up in Gold's shop with my name on it. It has keys and an apartment deed in my name. The apartment across the hall, actually." Emma glanced at the door, picturing the other door across the hall. She'd always assumed it was empty, since no one ever showed up there. And now it was in her name.

Mary Margaret gave Emma an incredulous look. "You own an apartment now?"

Emma shrugged, leaning back in her chair and pulling her legs up to her chest. "Apparently."

Mary Margaret opened the envelope and examined the contents. "And it just showed up in Rumplestiltskin's shop?"

"I guess so."

Her mother pursed her lips, glancing back up at Emma. "I wonder how. Do you think it's part of this curse? Like you're a part of Storybrooke now?"

"It's either part of this curse, or it's someone trying to manipulate me," Emma answered, brushing her mess of blonde hair back from her face. She set her mug of coffee down on her knees, the warmth spreading through her.

"Are you going to move in?" Mary Margaret's voice had a new tone of interest to it, causing Emma to raise an eyebrow at her.

"Do you think I should?"

Mary Margaret shrugged, dropping the envelope down. She leaned back in her chair, a hand absently going to her stomach and resting on the large bump. "I don't think it's a bad idea. You'd still be close, but it might be good for you and Henry to have your own place here. You know this loft can get crowded, and with a baby on the way…" Mary Margaret trailed off, head tilted, the suggestion clear. No matter how ambiguous she tried to make her words, Emma knew that her mother was suggesting she take the apartment.

A large boom of thunder echoed outside and both women jumped. Emma glanced at the window, but the shutters were drawn closed so she couldn't see anything. There must be quite a storm outside.

She didn't let that distract her. "And what if it is someone trying to manipulate me?" Emma countered. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted something as permanent as an apartment. Sure, she'd sort of offered it to Hook last night, but that was different. She didn't know where he stayed in Storybrooke, and if he really needed a place to stay…she pushed aside thoughts of him.

Mary Margaret frowned, dimples appearing in her cheeks as her blue eyes studied the envelope. "What bad can really come of just using the apartment?"

Emma gave her a look of disbelief. "You're not seriously asking what can go wrong in Storybrooke, are you?"

She shrugged. "I mean, you should at least give it a chance. Maybe you're meant to be here now, Emma. Maybe you're finally a part of us." She gave Emma a bright, sweet smile.

Looking at Mary Margaret disconcerted Emma a bit still. She wasn't used to Mary Margaret being pregnant, but it wasn't just her large stomach that threw Emma. There were other subtle differences, too, like how Mary Margaret would rest her hand on her stomach, or how her face was a bit rounder with the pregnancy weight gain.

Mary Margaret, whether she was a schoolteacher in Storybrooke or the archer in the woods, looked like she fit in. She was one of the fairy tale characters, and Emma could believe it. Emma didn't know if she really wanted to be a part of Storybrooke, one of the fairy tale characters. She didn't quite fit in the same way.

Emma stared at her mother for a minute, biting the inside of a cheek. She thought about when Mary Margaret had been cursed, before their lives had been truly turned upside down. She thought about when she and Mary Margaret had sat here as two girlfriends, talking about the men in their lives. Well, they hadn't talked so much as complained and griped about.

There was a noise from upstairs, a creaking of floorboards. Emma glanced up, seeing if Henry was waking up. The noise died down, but it made her think of the thoughts that had plagued her all night.

The kiss with Hook had been weighing on her ever since yesterday morning, and the talk with Hook hadn't helped. She'd pretended that he'd given her a memory potion, but she had to talk to someone else. She was the closest to Mary Margaret. She certainly wasn't going to tell David, her _father_, or Regina, despite how much the woman knew about magic.

But she had to tell someone. She had to figure out if there was any way that could have been true love's kiss, and she needed someone else to know. But she hesitated to tell_ Snow White _of all people, the firmest believer in hope and true love and magic and family. She might be too upbeat for Emma, but Emma needed something.

"There's something I need to tell you," Emma said quietly, glancing back up at the top of the loft to make sure Henry wasn't about to come down. She didn't need him to hear this. It was quiet, so she looked back at Mary Margaret.

Her mother leaned forward a bit, cocking her head in interest. She rested her hands on the table. "What?"

Emma took a deep breath, looking at the mug on her knees to give herself something else to focus on. She looked at the garish patterns of flowers on the mug, wondering why in the world Mary Margaret would have such an ugly mug.

"Hook didn't give me a memory potion yesterday."

The silence between them stretched so long that Emma had to glance up tentatively at Mary Margaret to see her reaction, Emma's fingers tightening around the mug until her knuckles turned white.

Mary Margaret had sat up straight in her seat, a delighted expression on her face. "What did he do, then?" she asked, her eyes alight with excitement.

Emma sighed, dropping her legs down to the ground and setting her mug down with a thud as she leaned forward over the table, bracing herself on her forearms. "Come on. I know what you're thinking."

"Did he kiss you?" There was no denying the curiosity and happiness in Mary Margaret's voice.

Emma glared up at Mary Margaret, letting her know the answer in her resentment.

"He did," Mary Margaret gasped, her hand going to her mouth. The thunder roiled outside, reminding them of the storm that had picked up.

"Keep it quiet," Emma hissed, looking back up at the loft. "I didn't want anyone else to know. He did give Henry a memory potion, but I thought it was easier not to tell everyone that he…kissed me."

Mary Margaret was beside herself. "Emma, do you know what this means?"

Emma held up a hand to stall her. "Wait a minute. I don't think it was true love's kiss, and I don't want to hear you go on about that."

Mary Margaret obediently quieted, but her eyes still sparkled as she grinned at Emma.

Emma shook her head, muttering to herself. "I cannot believe I'm about to have this conversation." She took another breath, looking up at Mary Margaret. "I don't know if it was really true love's kiss. I don't know if he broke my curse. I got my memories back…but when I kissed Henry and broke the curse, it broke for everyone. Everyone got their memories back. This time, Henry didn't remember. It only worked for me, even though both of us were cursed."

Mary Margaret didn't look deterred in the slightest. "All curses vary. Magic works in strange ways. But true love's kiss can break a curse. No other kiss can do that, and there aren't any other ways I could think of _Hook_ breaking your curse. Does this mean—"

"It doesn't mean anything," Emma cut her off, her voice low. "It wasn't true love." She looked away from Mary Margaret, unable to stand her wide grin. "It just means I got my memories back after Hook kissed me, and then I gave Henry a memory potion."

"You just don't believe in true love," Mary Margaret said. "Please, we could all see this coming after Neverland."

Emma glared at Mary Margaret. "Stop that. I honestly don't think it was true love," she insisted. She nearly faltered under Mary Margaret's intense gaze. "I mean, yeah, there might be something between us, but it's not _that_."

Mary Margaret studied her. "You really don't think it's true love," she observed. "It's not just you being scared."

"I'm not scared."

Mary Margaret shrugged. "Yes you are, but that's not why you're saying this. I saw you in Neverland. There's definitely something between you two."

"Are you sure there aren't any other ways he could have given me my memories back with a kiss?" Emma pressed, pulling one leg up underneath her. She wanted to curl into a ball, hide under a blanket and ignore the world. She didn't want to have this conversation, but she needed someone else to talk to. Someone who wasn't Hook.

She thought of his words from the previous night.

_I didn't think that kiss would bloody work_.

Mary Margaret frowned, her eyes dropping as she considered Emma's words. "I can't think of anything, but I don't know magic very well. It's just…" she paused, the pale skin of her brow furrowing as she looked back up at Emma. "I do know that there was one time when I didn't have my memories. I took a potion to make myself forget everything about David. He tried to kiss me to break the curse, but it didn't work."

Emma frowned. "Why didn't it work? You two are definitely true love."

Mary Margaret tilted her head as she looked at Emma. "I didn't have my memories of him, and I couldn't love him. But when he told me he would die for what he believed in, for me and for our love, it touched something inside of me. And when I kissed him back, feeling that, then…" A faint smile came over her face in remembrance.

Nodding, Emma took that in.

A small laugh escaped Mary Margaret, and Emma glanced at her. "I actually punched him after he kissed me the first time," she admitted, looking slightly guilty.

Emma couldn't help the laugh that came out of her. "I punched Hook, too."

Mary Margaret's grin widened as she leaned forward, studying Emma. "For you, I don't think it matters if it was true love's kiss or not. I think what matters more is what you do from here." She reached out, squeezing Emma's hand.

Emma looked up from their hands, meeting Mary Margaret's eyes. They were serious, but a little bit hopeful. Encouraging. She wanted Emma to move forward, to take the chance.

But for all their similarities, Emma and Mary Margaret were fundamentally different people when it came to relationships.

"The more important question to ask yourself," Mary Margaret said delicately, looking down at their hands, "Is if you want it to be true love. It's never easy, and it's never very clear. All that you can do is keep fighting for it, and you have to decide if it's something you want to fight for." She smiled down at her stomach, running a hand over it. "I think it's worth it."

Emma nodded, looking down at their hands. It reminded her that she had a family again, that she had a mother who would help her and give her advice, even if they had a bit of an unconventional history and relationship.

_You're a bloody amazing woman, Swan, to make me _want_ it to be that nonsense_.

There was a loud thud from upstairs. Emma jumped, pulling her hand back from Mary Margaret's and looking upstairs in alarm. "Henry?" she called, getting halfway out of her seat.

"I'm okay," he called down. "I just…dropped something."

Emma gave Mary Margaret a warning look as she got up and went into the kitchen, refilling her mug. "Don't tell anyone, okay? I don't really know how I feel about this."

Mary Margaret gave her a reassuring smile, getting up and following her into the kitchen. "I won't," she promised, and held out her arms to Emma.

Emma sighed, stepping forward and giving her mother a hug, since she had just helped her. Emma wasn't much the hugging type, but Mary Margaret was.

At the sound of Henry coming down the stairs, Emma pulled away and busied herself with her coffee.

"Morning, Henry," Mary Margaret said warmly.

"Hey kid," Emma said, taking her new mug and going and sitting down. "How's it going?"

"Fine," Henry answered, going and pouring himself a glass of juice. "I like being back."

Emma smiled at him.

"Hey, do you still need to talk to my mom? The other one?" Henry asked Emma, sitting down next to her. "Ask her about the curse. I don't think she cast it, but maybe she knows something."

"Yeah, I probably should," Emma said, reaching out and ruffling Henry's hair. "You probably want to see her too."

Henry grinned, but then faltered. "But I thought part of the price of the last curse was that I couldn't see her again," he objected. "So…if I'm back, can I?"

Emma quirked her lips. "Henry, I have absolutely no idea how these curse things work," she told him, and she wasn't just thinking about his problem. "So we'll just have to go over and see."

He grinned again at her.

The front door suddenly burst open, and two people stumbled in, bringing with them a wash of cold air. Emma jumped to her feet, abandoning her coffee.

"David," Mary Margaret gasped, coming out from behind the kitchen island, towel still clutched in her hands. "Are you…" she trailed off, moving forward.

"Hook?" Emma demanded, staring at the two men.

They were both shivering, covered with a light layer of snow, and shaking to try to warm themselves up. They stumbled a few steps in, neither of them very coordinated.

"Go sit down," Mary Margaret ordered, striding forward and closing the door behind them. She moved to David, using her towel to brush the snow out of his fair hair as he sat down in a chair.

"Hook," Emma repeated in confusion as he dropped into the seat at the head of the table, rubbing his arm with his good hand in an attempt to warm himself up.

"Swan," he greeted, his voice shaking and missing its usual cockiness. He took a deep breath, giving her a hopeful smile.

"What the hell happened out there?" Emma demanded, moving towards the window and pulling open the shutters so she could look outside.

A veritable snowstorm raged outside. She didn't know how she hadn't noticed it before. It had been a thunderstorm when she woke up this morning, and last night there had been nothing except a brisk air. But now a layer of snow covered the ground, with more swirling around in the air and a dark layer of clouds over the sky.

Henry came and stood next to her, looking out at the window. Emma gingerly reached out and touched her finger to the glass, jerking it back from the frozen surface.

She turned to face David in amazement. "How—"

"Magic," Henry said, still staring out the window. "There's no other way for that to have happened."

Emma glanced at Henry, who hadn't moved as he frowned out the window.

"It was only raining this morning, and it shouldn't be snowing like this. There's something else going on," Henry said, glancing at Emma. "You need to talk to my mom."

Emma looked over at David and Hook, who appeared to be warming up a bit. Hook had stopped shivering so much, and David had relaxed a bit more into his chair. Mary Margaret was perched on the edge of her seat next to him, clasping his hands in hers.

Emma moved over to sit down next to Hook, who was now brushing the last melting flakes of snow out of his hair. His silver hook no longer looked like it was frosted over.

"It's bloody cold out there," Hook swore, shaking his head.

Emma pushed her mug towards him. "Drink this. It'll warm you up." Hook reached for the mug as she turned to David. "What were you doing this morning?"

David shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He glanced at the moisture on his palm from the snow that had melted there. "I was just out patrolling, checking out town to make sure everything as okay. It rained through the night, and this morning it turned into a thunderstorm. It was just raining one minute and then—"

"This is vile," Hook exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention to him as he made a disgusted face, setting Emma's mug down on the table and shaking his head. "Are you trying to poison me, Swan? I'm already frozen half to death."

Emma couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up out of her throat as she collapsed in the chair next to him. His comment, combined with his disgusted look and disgruntled voice just set her off. The tension she'd been carrying around this morning, worrying about the curse and trying to figure out about Hook, just slid off of her shoulders with Hook's comment.

"Hot tea?" Mary Margaret offered, standing up. "You both look like you could use it." Both men nodded and she disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Anyway," David continued, giving Hook half a smile, "It was raining one minute and then it just turned into a snow storm without any warning. I wasn't expecting it. The roads iced over, so I ditched the truck and tried to walk. I ran into Hook, and then we stumbled into here."

"It can't possibly be natural," Hook said, glancing out the window. He leaned forward, resting his good arm on the table.

"Do you think it has to do with whoever cursed us here?" Mary Margaret asked from behind the island, standing in front of a kettle of boiling water.

David shrugged. "Whatever it is, we can't very well figure it out now. We're stuck in here until that storm calms down, which it doesn't look like it will do for a while."

"Maybe my mom has something that can counteract it," Henry offered, coming to sit down at the table. He looked around at them. "Like a counterspell."

Emma shared a skeptical glance with David. "You could try calling her, kid, though I don't know how she'll react to us being back."

Henry frowned. "Maybe we should wait a bit, then. I don't know if I can actually see her."

"So…what, is that it?" Emma asked, looking between David and Mary Margaret. Mary Margaret was pouring the boiling water into mugs now, bringing them back to the table and setting them down. "Now we're just stuck here until the weather is better?"

"Swan, to describe how cold it is out there requires words that I think you would prefer I not use in front of your lad," Hook said with a pointed glance at Henry. Henry rolled his eyes.

Emma slumped back in her seat, dejected, fingers tapping rapidly on the table. "I don't like this."

"I know," Hook said, taking a swig of the tea. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he reclined in the seat.

Emma's eyes flickered around, looking at everyone. She didn't want to sit still. That wasn't how she worked. She needed to be moving, to try to do something to fix this. Her eyes fell on the envelope on the table, the new apartment keys.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," she announced abruptly, grabbing the envelope and getting to her feet. She strode to the door, pulling it open.

"Swan, what are you—" Hook was halfway to his feet before she shook her head.

"Ask Mary Margaret. I'm not going outside," Emma said, slipping out the door and closing it behind her. This would at least give her something to do. Maybe there would be something in the apartment that would give her a clue about what was happening in Storybrooke. Or maybe she was being paranoid, and all it meant was that she had her own place now.

She walked the few steps to the other door, opening the envelope and pulling a key out of it. Taking a deep breath, Emma slid it into the lock and turned it. She hesitantly pushed the door open, peering inside before she made a move to go in.

Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

It was a perfectly normal looking apartment. Fully furnished, walls painted, decorations hung, towels hung over the oven doors. It even had a few accents that reminded her of her apartment back in New York.

She stepped inside cautiously, peering around some more. It appeared to be the exact same as Mary Margaret's loft, though flipped in orientation. Hers did have a fireplace, though, with cut logs stacked up neatly beside it. There were blankets draped over the edge of the couch, a black kettle on the stove, and Emma even found dishes in a cabinet when she opened it.

The whole thing unsettled her slightly. She had received the keys to an apartment that seemed ready to live in. Even the linen closet had extra sheets and towels, and the bed was fully made, with a curtain rod hanging to shield off the corner of the room for privacy.

"Quite the nice place, love," Hook's voice came from behind her. She turned to see him striding into the apartment, closing the door behind him. His eyebrow raised as he glanced around. "I assume this is the apartment you were talking about."

"Yeah," Emma said slowly, turning around and taking it all in. She glanced up at the top of the loft, seeing another bedroom set up there, just like Mary Margaret's. "Kind of weird."

Hook shrugged. "You're a part of Storybrooke. You need a place of your own."

She glanced at him, unnerved by how his words echoed Mary Margaret's.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, moving closer towards the kitchen. There was even a TV set up in the little living room, and she didn't want to know what was in the media box underneath it.

Hook shrugged. "With this curse nonsense going on, I thought it best if you weren't alone."

Emma ignored the implication that she couldn't take care of herself. "I guess this is supposed to be mine."

Hook moved closer to her, holding out his hand for the envelope. She gave it to him, and he examined the papers inside it.

"Will you live here?"

Emma shrugged, putting her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. "I don't know."

"They're luxurious quarters," Hook said, glancing around. He tossed the envelope on the bar counter. "Why wouldn't you?"

A multitude of answers sprung to Emma's mind. She didn't want to have her own place, because that meant she was staying for good. She didn't want to live here, because she wasn't quite sure how here became hers. She didn't want to move into an apartment that was weirdly furnished in every way she would have changed how Mary Margaret's apartment was. Not to mention that it had a fireplace, which had been a long desire of hers.

She went with the easiest answer. "It's kind of weird."

Hook gave her a wry grin. "Why not ask the boy?"

Emma raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Hook. "Ask Henry if we should live here?"

He swept his hook out to gesture to the apartment. "If it's yours, I see no reason why you shouldn't have the space. Your parents are still close. You don't really want to keep sharing a room with the lad and living with your parents, I presume."

Emma grimaced, shrugging. It was true. She liked her parents a lot, but living with them could be a bit much. Not to mention the number of times she and poor Henry had walked in on the two of them having a private moment. She was just unnerved by the way this apartment looked like everything she had ever dreamed of having.

"Maybe," Emma said. She gave Hook a scrutinizing look. "What do you think of that storm out there?"

Hook shook his head. "Three hundred years, and I've never seen a storm come up that quickly, even on the open seas. There is nothing but magic to explain it. As for whether it's due to whoever cursed us here…" he shrugged, then his expression turned more curious.

"You're not going to spend all this time obsessing over the curse, are you?" Hook asked, giving Emma a doubtful look. "You do realize, Swan, that until this lets up there is nothing you are able to do."

Emma pursed her lips, not wanting to answer. Obsessing over it and trying to find an answer was exactly what she wanted to do.

Hook sighed, shaking his head and moving to stand in front of Emma. He looked down at her, his bright blue eyes focused on her. She blinked, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat at his closeness.

"Remember what I said about not always having to be the Savior?" Hook breathed, holding Emma's gaze. He smelled of rum and salt, like the sea. He reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

Emma shook her head, taking a step back from him and turning away. She couldn't be that close to him. It confused her, made her think thoughts she shouldn't be thinking.

"That's my job," Emma muttered, moving past him and heading back towards Mary Margaret's apartment. "That's who I am."

* * *

><p><em> Zelena paced back and forth in front of the cage where she held the Dark One. She didn't like this. There was too much that was being left up to chance, that she wasn't controlling. <em>

_ The King and Queen, that damned Prince Charming and precious Snow White, had spoken to Glinda, of all people. Glinda the Good, the one person who knew how to defeat Zelena. She'd watched them, seen them leave Glinda's prison. But she hadn't been able to touch them then, because she still needed their child. She couldn't harm them without harming the child and jeopardizing her chances. _

_ And then she'd come back here and talked to the Dark One, and he'd told her there was an even stronger child, one that could be born to the _Savior_, who herself was the product of true love. _

_ The corners of Zelena's lips turned up. A child twice born of true love would be even more powerful than the child of Snow White and Prince Charming. The Savior had been born of true love, and when her child was also born of true love... With that child, there would not be a shred of doubt as to whether or not her curse would succeed. _

_ The Snow Queen had come, offering to strike a deal and cast the curse to send them all to the Land Without Magic, as long as Zelena promised to leave her and her niece alone. As much as she denied it, Zelena needed the Snow Queen—needed her to cast the curse she couldn't, needed her to take Zelena to the Savior who could give her an even stronger child. _

_ But it would take time, precious time, for this other child. Snow White was pregnant _now. _Zelena could have her revenge within a few weeks. _

_ This spell was too difficult, though. It hadn't worked too many times, had gone horrendously wrong. It had taken so much research and trial merely to find a curse that was supposed to work. She may not be able to cast Rumplestiltskin's dark curse, but she could cast this one. And to ensure her success…_

_ Zelena stopped in front of the cage, smiling wickedly at the man hunched over his spinning wheel. Yes. She needed the child of the Savior. She'd heard of the Savior's magical abilities, as she herself was the product of true love. If the Savior bore another child of true love, Zelena would be the first one to succeed in a time traveling curse, and Rumplestiltskin would rue the day he choose Regina over her. _

_ In fact, Zelena thought to herself, her eyes darkening as she tilted her head down to look at the depraved man, if she succeeded, Rumplestiltskin would choose her, and Zelena would have everything she ever wanted. _

_ She needed to ensure that the Savior would bear her a child. Zelena would do everything she could to make sure that the Savior found her true love and her happy ending. _

_ "Walsh!" Zelena barked, spinning around on her heel and striding towards the door of the hall. _

_ There was a chattering at the window, and Zelena saw a flying monkey crouching in the open windowsill. He hopped in, making his clumsy way towards her. _

_ Zelena smiled. "Looks like you get to have some fun now." She waved her hand, and the monkey was enveloped in green smoke. When it cleared, a seedy looking man stood there, his hair disheveled and his clothes poor. _

_ "Go talk to those who returned from the curse," Zelena ordered. "You are to find out as much about this _Savior_ as possible."_

_ He bowed low, arm sweeping out. "Your wish is my command, O Wicked One." He scurried out of the room, moving quickly. _

_ Zelena smirked to herself. "Wicked is so much better than Evil."_

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry if you received a notification twice about this chapter-I had to fix a couple things after I uploaded it.<strong>

**I was hoping I wouldn't have to clarify this, but I've gotten a couple of reviews and I think I have to, though that last bit was already my attempt at clarification. This was never meant to be any sort of Captain Swan true love vs Snowing true love. I was trying to imply, especially with the whole "a child twice born of true love", that the only reason Emma's child would be stronger was because Emma was already powerful from being born of true love herself. It wasn't because Captain Swan was better than Snowing. It's a Captain Swan fic, which means by nature it will revolve around Emma and Hook, though it's not meant to say they're better than Snowing. I'm apparently not on the internet enough-I didn't realize there was such a heated debate about who was better. **


	5. Frustrations

**Chapter Five: Frustrations**

"That didn't help at all," Emma growled, stalking down the street. Hook lengthened his strides to keep up with her.

Hook had waited on the street while Emma walked Henry up to Regina's door. She'd gone to talk to Regina about this new curse, and to let Henry see his other mom. She'd seemed on edge and antsy as they headed over, and he'd hung back to let her have her private conversation. But she'd come back in a black mood, abandoning Regina's house as quickly as possible.

"Did you learn nothing?" Hook asked.

She shook her head. "She knows nothing. No memories. She wasn't lying when she said she didn't cast this curse. And she said she was prepared to give up Henry for the last curse, though she certainly seemed happy to see him now."

The last part was said with a hard edge to her voice that made Hook wince.

"Well, now you know for certain the Evil Queen didn't cast the curse," Hook offered, gesturing back to where they had left Regina's house. "Isn't eliminating one possibility a good thing, love?"

He didn't know where they were headed right now. He was just following Emma. The raging frozen hell that had been this morning's storm had subsided to mere flurries by now, with a layer of snow making all of Storybrooke white.

Emma was having none of it. "I already knew she didn't cast it, so that was pointless. She just told me what I already knew," Emma snapped, zipping up her red leather jacket so it was closed more. She flipped up the collar to protect against the wind, hunching her shoulders. "And she doesn't know anything about this storm, either, so now we're just at the same square zero as before and it is _fucking freezing _out here."

Hook raised his eyebrows at the curse, not having heard Emma use language quite like that before. Women who could hold their own with the sailors tended to impress him, but it was unusual coming from her. He reached out, slipping his hook around her wrist and causing her to halt midstride. She turned on him, glaring.

Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her green eyes bright, her blonde hair blowing around her face in a manner that reminded him of how she'd looked on the Jolly Roger. All in all, she was still the same beautiful women, even if her pale lips were twisted in a scowl and her eyes were narrowed at him.

"Swan, what are you really upset about?" He studied her face, trying to figure out what exactly could cause such frustration in her eyes. The wind blew around them, and the air stung his exposed skin, but if Emma insisted on being out here then he would follow her.

Emma jerked her hand free of his hook, and he let it fall to his side. She didn't move, but she looked away from him and out over the street.

"This damn storm."

Hook shook his head, and swept his hand out. "Let's walk, because you seem to need to keep moving and doing something. But don't lie to me." He began to walk, and she seemed to lose a sliver of her tenseness as she moved once more.

"It's not a lie," she muttered, brushing the hair out of her mouth. Hook glanced at her again, but she refused to meet his gaze once more.

"You're a stubborn lass, but you're also an open book," Hook said lightly, glancing around the street. He was uncomfortable with being out in this storm. He didn't deal with snow. He near detested it, which was one of the benefits of being at sea all the time. He never encountered snow. "The storm's not it."

"This damn curse."

"Closer, but still not all."

Emma huffed, and this time it was she who stopped, rounding on Hook.

"You think that just because you kissed me and brought me back it means all of a sudden we're this whole _team_ who tells each other everything? You think you have to help me all the time because of that kiss? You and I, we—we're not—just because—" She broke off, swearing as she paced in a frustrated circle.

Hook turned to face her slowly, raising an eyebrow. "If you remember correctly, _love_, you asked for my help today. I'd be here either way, but that's besides the current point. If you could stop and think rationally instead of bottling it all up, you'd realize I'm only trying to help you, Swan. You're frustrated with something, and it isn't me. Well," he amended, "not just me. Whatever it is has been bothering you ever since you returned to Storybrooke."

Emma was silent after his speech, dropping her gaze and pulling her lips tight. Her hair fell over her shoulders, blowing in her face, tumbling everywhere. She let out a deep breath, but didn't move. Her shoulders were still hunched, her hands still clenched in fists in her jacket pockets.

Hook had been watching Emma, ever since he had kissed her. She hadn't relaxed for a moment since they'd been back, though he hadn't been able to figure out exactly what was bothering her. She wouldn't let him in past her walls again, not like she had when they'd said their goodbyes, so long ago.

But he wanted to help her. He wanted to smooth out the lines in her face, to help her with whatever problem she was facing. She'd been hung up over something ever since he'd told her that Storybrooke was back. He'd caught her several times just staring out the window, a frustrated expression on her face. She was restless and tense

Stepping closer, Hook reached out, brushing his fingers under Emma's jaw and raising her chin so she was forced to look at him. Her jaw was gritted, but her eyes were lost. She was putting up a front, like she had been when she told him that wasn't true love's kiss. Maybe it wasn't, but even she hadn't been able to deny that the two of them had some connection.

"Swan," Hook said gently, breathing her name like a prayer. "Please."

_Please let me help. Please let me in. _

He saw her bite her lip, saw her eyes waver, and then she stepped back so they weren't so close and his fingers weren't under her chin anymore.

"This isn't the time," Emma said, looking away. She wrapped her arms around herself, but Hook couldn't tell if it was from the cold or her emotions. "Maybe...do you see that?" She jerked her head in the direction she was looking.

Hook followed her gaze, his eyes widening. It looked like it was coming from the center of town, only a street or two away. It was another mass of swirling storm clouds, hovering in one spot, the wind picking up and tugging them towards the spot.

Emma reached for the gun on her hip, pulling it out and pointing it at the ground. "We need to go find out what that is." She started running through the snow, the wind at her back helping her pace. Hook heaved a deep breath and followed her, seeing her gun and wishing he had more than just his hook.

Of course the moment he almost had her talking another crisis showed up. Just his buggering luck.

As they drew closer to the town square, Hook's heart sank. It was another damn snow storm, swirling in the air. He really hated snow.

They slid to a halt at the edge of the town square, Emma's arm flying up to protect her face from the swirling snow in the air. Hook squinted, internally cursing the snow and the wind and any weather that had ever existed. His leather coat snapped in the wind around him, threatening to pull him off balance.

The snow was swirling in the middle of the square, all the wind turning the snow flurries into angry, stinging gusts that formed an expanding column in the large space.

"Is that…a person?" Emma yelled over the noise of the wind, stumbling towards the storm as a strong gust blew at their back.

Hook squinted closer at the storm. He thought he could make out the outline of a woman standing in the eye of the storm, completely untouched by it. He glanced up, seeing the top of the swirling column connected to dark, angry snow clouds.

"Hello?" Emma called, taking a few deliberate steps forward. She kept her gun at the ready, pointing it downwards with her arms extended. "Can you hear me?"

Hook could definitely make out a woman in there. She turned to face Emma, and then stumbled back a few steps.

"You have to stop this!" Emma shouted at her. "You have to stop the storm."

The woman took a few faltering steps back, and now she was in the thick of the swirling gusts. Hook watched as the winds whipped her blonde braid around, her arms extended as if for balance. The winds only increased in strength, new snow starting to pour down around them.

"Hey!" Emma yelled, taking a few more steps forward. She started to raise her gun, pointing it at the girl. Hook knew it was futile. Emma was a good shot with that modern weapon of hers, but it would never shoot true in this weather.

The girl turned and fled, running through the snow and darting down a nearby alley. Emma made to follow her, but stumbled backwards when she caught sight of the storm.

Hook took a few steps back, raising his own arm to shield himself. The snow was now coalescing, swirling together to form a solid mass. Rising up from the ground, a creature rose, built of ice and snow.

It roared, an enormous and bulky monster made of ice. Giant fists swung out, narrowly missing Emma as she jumped out of the way. Hook had an unfortunate flashback to when he and Emma first fought Anton the giant, though thankfully this snow monster was only a fraction of the giant's height.

"Swan!" Hook shouted, his heart lurching as he watched Emma dive for cover. His eyes widened as he realized his shout had drawn the monster's attention. It roared, a blast of icy air, and lunged for Hook.

He dove out of the way, hiding behind a column in front of the library. He realized Emma'd had a similar idea, as she was crouched behind one a few pillars away from him, her gun cocked in her hand. She was staring out, looking at the monster.

Hook turned to look at it, seeing it lurching around the square and bellowing. He had lost sight of the woman who had cast the spell to create the monster in the first place, but right now they had bigger issues to deal with than her.

Emma stood up, coming out from behind the column and firing several quick shots at the back of the monster's head. The loud gunshots rang out, the sound of them ricocheting off the ice reverberating in the air. Hook held his breath, seeing what would happen.

The monster lurched forward, bowing its head, ice chunks flying everywhere. It nearly lost its head. But then the wind and snow whirled around, and it fixed the damage Emma had inflicted.

The monster roared again, moving in a circle to face them again, each of its footfalls heavy on the ground.

"Damn it," Emma growled, spinning to hide behind the column again. She turned to face Hook. "Any ideas?"

Hook peered out at the monster, his mind churning over ideas.

"Swan, that thing is made of magic," he called over the noise.

She gave him a frustrated look. "Thanks, Captain Obvious!"

Hook shook his head, frowning at the new moniker. "Don't you have magic? Can you do anything about it?"

A hesitant look crossed her face, and she frowned at him, then back out at the monster, who was still pounding towards them. "I can try," she said, her voice hesitant.

"I'll distract it," Hook said, rolling out from behind the column in the opposite direction of Emma and running out into the open. "Hey, you sodding avalanche!"

The monster lunged towards him, and Hook backed up, eyeing Emma behind it.

She had stepped out from behind the pillar and was standing out in the open. Her hands were extended, and she was staring down at them, a look of intense concentration on her face.

Her hands started to glow, and Hook stumbled back a few more feet to avoid the monster's icy breath. Emma raised her hands, cringing as a wave of red magic pulsed out from them.

The breath was knocked out of Hook as the magic hit him. He flew back against a building, falling into a snowdrift. His head pounded, his back aching from the impact. The monster's roaring rang in his ears.

He heard Emma shout his name in desperation. Hook struggled to get out of the snow bank, limbs flailing. Snow was getting everywhere, inside his clothes and melting against his skin and even in his ear and there were a lot of things going wrong in Storybrooke but right now his biggest issue was that he really, really hated snow. And he was pretty sure some of it was even melting up his nose.

When he finally managed to free himself from the snow, falling forward and out of it, he looked up to see a horrifying sight.

The monster had Emma in its fist, swinging her around and bellowing. With every movement, Hook's heart sank to see Emma's head snapping around limply. She was trying to fight back, but getting knocked around made it hard.

Hook didn't know what to do. He didn't know what there was for him to do. He only had his hook, and no other weapon. Even Emma's gun, which he saw laying on the ground, didn't work. Not that he knew how to use it, anyway. But as he saw Emma being tossed around, he couldn't stand there and do nothing.

Hook stood, raising his hook and preparing to charge the monster anyway. He was just about to plunge forward when a voice from behind made him hesitate.

"Stop."

It was a command, an order, and Hook felt a shiver run through his body. Magic.

He spun to face the newcomer. It was an older woman, dressed in modern clothes and with a white apron over the front of them. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, her face aged elegantly with a few lines. Her hand was raised, snowflakes swirling around it.

Hook looked back at the monster to see it frozen mid-lunge. It wasn't moving, wasn't making noise. Emma hung limply in its hand, unmoving.

"Drop the girl," the woman ordered, striding forward. The monster's fist opened, and Emma fell and tumbled to the ground. She lay there in a crumpled heap.

"Emma!" Hook cried out, running towards her. He dropped to the ground next to her, scooping her up in his arms and holding her against his chest. "Emma," he sighed in relief as she began to move, groaning as she reached up and rubbed her neck.

"That hurt like a bitch," she muttered, sagging into Hook's arms. She shook her head, blinking blearily.

Hook pulled her closer to him, burying his face in her neck. She was cold, her skin ice to the touch, and he was only slightly warmer, but she reached up and touched his cheek gently.

"You're okay," she said, her voice carrying a bit of relief and a bit of wonder. "I was scared…my magic..."

Hook pulled back, looking down at the woman in his arms. She'd clearly taken a hit to the head, if she was letting him hold her like this and not objecting. And for her to show genuine worry for him.

He smirked down at her. "I've survived three hundred years. It'll take more than a hard knock to get rid of me."

Emma started to laugh, but it just turned into a cough as she pressed her hand into her ribs. She started to move, trying to get up. Hook helped her to her feet, supporting her under her arm when she swayed where she stood.

The two of them watched in amazement as the woman waved her hand, and the ice monster dissolved to leave nothing more than a large pile of snow. She moved forward, coming towards Emma and Hook.

"How did you do that?" Emma demanded, trying to push Hook away so she could stand on her own. Smiling at her stubbornness, Hook took a step away, but was ready to catch her if she stumbled again.

The woman sighed. "It's a long story. I am Ingrid of Arendelle."

"Arendelle?" Emma asked.

"Land across the sea from the Enchanted Forest," Hook answered quickly. She gave him a quick nod of thanks.

"I'm Emma Swan, and this is…Captain Hook," Emma said, with a hesitant glance at Hook. He raised an eyebrow, wondering why she paused. "So what's the long story?"

Ingrid shook her head. "All will be told in time, but there is something more pressing I must attend to first." She turned away from Emma and Hook, taking a few strides past the mound of snow monster. She looked around, calling, "Elsa? Elsa, my sweet, it's safe. You can come out here. Nothing will hurt you, I promise. Elsa?"

After a few heartbeats, a head peered out of the alley the girl from earlier had disappeared into. She glanced at the three of them, Ingrid holding her hands out in a gesture of peace. The girl's brow furrowed, and she stepped out hesitantly.

Her blonde hair was mussed by the wind, stray strands pulled out of the braid. She wore a shimmering blue dress, a train dragging behind her as she stepped delicately through the snow. She stared at Ingrid.

"I know you…" she said, voice quavering.

"You don't remember me?" Ingrid asked, her voice sad. "What do you remember?"

Elsa frowned. She looked to only be a few years younger than Emma, Hook would guess, her blue eyes piercing as she watched the older woman.

"I remember…heat," Elsa said, frowning as her eyes glazed over. She was struggling to remember. "The…the urn. And a girl, with red hair, and two braids…she put me in there." Elsa frowned, and then gasped. "Anna. Her name was Anna, and she was my sister. But…she put me in there."

Elsa was lost in her own world now, trying to remember.

"Elsa, my darling Elsa," Ingrid sighed, moving forward with her hands extended.

The younger woman shook her head, taking a few frantic strides forward and clasping Ingrid's arm. She looked down, her shoulders trembling.

"I don't…it's all so—"

"Hush, hush," Ingrid murmured, pulling Elsa into a hug and stroking her head.

Hook shared an uneasy glance with Emma.

Emma cleared her throat. "Um…excuse me? What just happened?"

Elsa looked up, blinking as if she just realized they were standing there. Ingrid turned to face them, wrapping her arm around Elsa's shoulders.

Ingrid's face fell. "It's a long and sad story. But as I said, I am Ingrid of Arendelle. I was…queen, actually. This is my niece, Elsa, heir to the throne. There was a rather unfortunate mishap," Ingrid looked at Elsa uneasily, who was just shaking her head and leaning into Ingrid for support, "which resulted in quite the traumatic experience for Elsa when we accidentally came over with the curse. If I might beg your pardon, I would ask that you give me time with my niece to help her."

Hook couldn't doubt the love he saw in Ingrid's face as she looked down at her niece. It was a tender smile, and the way she tried to comfort the obviously confused woman showed that she cared.

Ingrid looked back at Emma. "I have heard you are the Sheriff of this town? Princess of the Enchanted Forest?"

Emma shifted uneasily, and Hook knew she disliked the title. "Yeah. Something like that."

Ingrid nodded again. "I shall find you on the morrow, Princess, and I promise I shall explain everything. But tonight…please give me tonight to help my Elsa."

Emma pursed her lips, nodding once. "Fine. And call me Emma." Hook could see by Emma's expression that she wasn't satisfied with the nswer she received, but she was putting up a front of being alright. He knew she was hurting after her encounter with the snow monster. She must have ached all over. He was sore from hitting the building.

"There's a town meeting tomorrow," Emma said, biting the inside of her cheek. "I want both of you there. No one's in trouble, but I want to talk to you." Both women nodded, Elsa's face full of fear induced by confusion.

"Of course," Ingrid said, nodding.

There was an uneasy pause of silence between the two women, and then Ingrid gave Emma a final smile and started to walk off with Elsa, murmuring to her.

Emma watched them walk away, and then she sagged where she stood. "Let's just go home," she muttered, starting to take a few steps forward.

She stumbled, hand pressed to her side, and Hook rushed forward. He put his arm underneath her shoulders, careful not to touch her with his hook, and draped her arm over his shoulders.

Emma gave him a wary glance, grudgingly accepting his silent offer of help. "Thanks."

The two of them made their slow way back to the apartment, not talking. Emma moved slowly, limping, her body clearly aching all over.

"It wasn't just the curse bothering me, earlier," Emma said abruptly. She didn't look at Hook, didn't make any indication that she'd said anything. She just kept walking. Hook didn't say anything either, letting her lead the conversation.

Emma sighed. "It's a lot of things. It's you and that damn kiss. It's the fact that I don't know who cursed us here. Last time with the curse, with Pan's curse, I failed, and everyone had to go back to the Enchanted Forest because I was unable to stop Pan. I have to redeem myself this time, but I don't know who I'm after. I just had to give up Henry and share him with Regina again, which is really hard after thirteen years of fake memories of having my son all to myself. Mary Margaret is pregnant and I have my own apartment. There was a freak snowstorm and I couldn't do anything about it or anything while it was happening. And I have magic that I can't use or control and all it managed to do was throw you into a building. Then there was that weird thing with Ingrid and Elsa, which makes me suspicious, but I don't know what I can do about it, since my magic clearly doesn't work on them."

Emma stopped talking just as abruptly as she had started.

"Only that, love?" Hook asked lightly.

She glared at him, and he shrugged, flashing her a cocky grin.

"And every bone in my body hurts and my neck was almost snapped in two, and my ribs were squeezed to death, and I feel frozen through, and walking just makes everything hurt even more," she snapped, trying to pull her arm back from him. "And if you're going to ask what's wrong and then just make fun of what I have to say—"

Hook shook his head, grabbing her arm before she could pull it away. "If it hurt that much, love, all you had do was ask." He stopped walking, pulling her to a stop.

She opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a gasp as Hook swung her up into his arms. His back twinged in protest after his own fall, but he knew she had to be in far worse pain. The apartment was in sight now, anyway. It was only a few more minutes, and then they could both collapse.

"And there's this damn pirate that keeps trying to do everything he can to woo me," Emma growled, turning her head to look away from Hook. He just grinned down at her.

"You know, if you told me more often what was wrong, you wouldn't have such a long list to recite."

"And you'd probably insist on helping me more often."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Emma glanced pointedly at his chest and everywhere he held her in his arms. "From you, yes."

"Judging by your heated reaction to me trying to help you, I'd say that you're most frustrated with me and taking it out on all your other problems," Hook observed. "You weren't this violent when you were offering me to stay in your place last night."

"I'm not _violent_."

"The bruise on my jaw begs to differ," Hook said wryly, thinking of how she had punched him when she realized how she had kissed him.

"Did I—" Emma said, a note of worry in her voice. She reached up, touching Hook's jaw and moving his head so she could see it. "You liar. There's nothing there." She grumbled to herself and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to touch him as little as possible.

"It hurt, Swan. You have a decent swing. Still can't fight like a pirate, but I would be happy to rectify that. Get the door, would you?"

Hook had stopped in front of the door to the apartment complex. Emma reached out, grabbing the handle and pushing the door open, while Hook carried her through. He was about to go up the stairs when she huffed and started squirming.

"This is ridiculous. Put me down," she demanded, pushing herself away from him.

"Move like that and I'll end up dropping you," Hook warned, setting her down. She didn't look at him, just began to make her slow way up the stairs. Hook followed her.

He smiled wryly behind her back. Emma Swan was a curious creature. She would open up to him one moment, and then shut him out as if she realized how her walls had been open and what a mistake it had been. She'd closed off again, but Hook knew it was only a matter of time before she opened back up again.

At the apartment, Emma hesitated at the top of the stairs. Instead of moving to go to Snow's apartment, she turned and headed towards the one that was now hers. She pulled out a key, causing Hook to raise an eyebrow. If she'd been carrying that on her, she'd probably already accepted the apartment as hers.

He was happy to see her with a place of her own. It gave her a sense of permanence in Storybrooke, like she wasn't going to up and run off at any moment, which was a worry of his about her. It also made it feel like she had a place here in Storybrooke, in the lives of everybody here. She wasn't lost and abandoned, like she had felt in Neverland.

Hook wasn't quite sure when his feelings about Emma had stopped being about lust and had started being about love.

"Come on, pirate," Emma muttered, gesturing for Hook to follow her in. She closed the door behind them.

Hook headed straight for the couch. Frankly, the bed looked comfortable, and he would love nothing more than to tumble into bed with Emma, but he knew now wasn't quite the time.

She would come to him soon enough, and the thought made his lips curl up in a smile.

His eyes closed as he sank down into the warmth of the cushions. He heard Emma moving around the kitchen, and realized she was making something hot to drink. He eyed the fireplace, deciding that the warmth it would provide was worth getting up off the couch for.

Hook knelt in front of the fire, stocking it with logs. He paused, not sure how they started fire in this land. He'd seen Snow light candles with matches, but didn't know how to use them.

"Swan?" he turned around, holding up a box of them he'd found next to the fireplace. She turned from rifling around in the cabinets, pulling a few things out. "How do you use these?"

She blinked at him, and then gave a small laugh, limping forward to help him. She lowered herself to the floor slowly, holding the box in one hand and showing him how to strike the match on the other hand. She reached out and lit the fire.

"It might be hard with only one hand," she said, almost apologetically, as she handed over the box.

Hook gave her a knowing look. "Love, I've learned how to excel at _everything_ with one hand." He winked at her, causing her to roll her eyes as she got up and went back to the kitchen.

It took him a few tries, but eventually he figured out how to wedge the box between the fireplace and his hook in a way that allowed him to light the match.

"I told you so, Swan," he said, voice triumphant as he turned to show her the match.

She rolled her eyes, walking into the little living room with two mugs in her hand. She set them down on the small table in there. "Just get over here and drink this."

Hook obliged, blowing out the match and tossing it in the fire. He got up and went to the couch, collapsing on the end opposite Emma. He took the drink she held out to him, taking a sip of the hot liquid.

It was hot chocolate. He'd had it only on rare occasions in the Enchanted Forest. He and Emma sat side by side on the couch, not touching, not talking, just looking at the fire that had begun crackling.

It was strangely…domestic. Hook glanced at Emma out of the corner of his eyes. She was quiet, her lips pulled down in a frown, her brow furrowed, her hair a tangled mess that fell around her face, her hands cupped resolutely around the mug.

Odd, to sit here in the—her—apartment. Just the two of them, after what felt like a long day of battle. He'd started a fire, she'd made them drinks.

Hook's heart thudded. He didn't quite yet know if he was suited for _domestic_. It was bringing up too many ideas of what life with Emma might be like—coming home at night with her, sleeping in bed together, waking up to her face, drinking with her in this room, kissing her when—

Hook abruptly got up, setting his drink down on the table.

Emma started, glancing back as he headed for the door. "Hook, what…where are you going?"

He glanced back at Emma, seeing her there. She had a look of surprise on her face, and a trace of sadness at him leaving.

She couldn't decide what she wanted. She couldn't decide how she felt, if they could work out whatever was between them. She let him in and pushed him away, telling him what was wrong and then berating him the next moment.

But this…she was letting him in her walls in a completely different way by inviting him to her apartment, and he didn't know if he was ready for that.

He wanted Emma Swan. He wanted nothing more than her. It had killed him, that year in the Enchanted Forest when he thought he'd never see her again. At first he'd tried having different women, inviting them back to his ship for the night. He'd tried to go back to being the old Captain Hook, but it hadn't worked. Eventually he'd just stopped trying.

Now, he finally had her back, had her here with him, and he didn't know what he wanted. Captain Hook had finally met his match.

"I think I'm the one who needs some time now, love," Hook said quietly, giving her a small smile. He stepped out the door, leaving her behind him. She didn't say anything, just watched him go.

In the hallway, once Hook was alone, he sighed and rubbed his temple.

"She finally invites you in, and you bloody walk out on her," he muttered. "What the hell are you thinking?"

He grimaced as he walked away, shaking his head in disgust.  
>He was thinking that perhaps he was feeling more for Emma Swan than he was prepared to deal with.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Zelena strode into the room that the Dark One was caged up in. Ingrid waited in the room, strolling around and looking at all the valuables the Dark One had collected over the years. <em>

_ She'd just returned from hearing Walsh's report about the Savior. He had done well. And if he was correct, then she would indeed reward him. He'd brought her news of a romance that had begun to blossom between the Savior and a certain pirate who'd spent many years in Neverland. But he'd also brought her other news, interesting news. It wasn't the Dark One she needed to speak to right now. She needed to speak to the Savior's first love. _

_ Zelena withdrew the dagger from her boot. Ingrid idly strode over, moving to stand behind Zelena, her hands clasped in front of her. Zelena smiled haughtily. The Snow Queen was so meek, so quiet and unassuming. She did what Zelena said, followed her wishes. They would work together, but Zelena would get what she wanted. She didn't care about what happened to the Snow Queen after the curse had been cast. _

_ Holding the dagger aloft, Zelena stopped in front of the cage. Rumplestiltskin was still spinning madly, muttering to himself. _

_ "Dark One," she ordered, making Rumplestilstkin look up at her, his fingers still flashing. "You were foolish and tried to save your precious son by absorbing his essence."_

_ His fingers stuttered, the rhythm disrupted, the gold thread flashing as it tangled in the wheel. He froze. "Baelfire," the Dark One croaked, eyes flashing to another color. _

_ Zelena smiled, lowering her head. "Yes. And I command you let me speak to him."_

_ Rumplestiltskin shook his head. "Voices, voices, in my head. Couldn't bear to see him dead," he muttered, voice quavering. Suddenly he gasped, craning his neck as his hands seized. His face shifted, blurring with magic, and suddenly a second person emerged from Rumplestiltskin, falling against the door of the cage. He coughed, trying to catch his breath. Rumplestiltskin collapsed into a heap on the floor, a silver thread of essence still connecting the two men. _

_ "Baelfire," Zelena said, kneeling down in front of him. She reached through the bars of the cage, tilting his head up so his eyes met hers. He glared at her, chest heaving as he tried to breath. He clutched at the bars of the cage as if the silver thread threatened to pull him back to Rumplestiltskin. _

_ "I hear you once had the Savior's love," she said softly, eyeing him. His lips tightened into a thin line. "I also hear you know of this Captain Hook. Tell me how to make them fall in love. What is it they desire?"_

_ He glared at her, his eyes darting between Zelena and the Snow Queen. "She'll defeat you," he said. He tried to spit it like a curse, but it turned into a groan as a shudder ran through his body. "She…she won't let you…" He groaned again. _

_ Zelena tutted. "She can't defeat me if no one knows who I am. You only have a few moments left, dear. Tell me what I must do to ensure they are reunited."_

_ Baelfire took a heaving breath, and then his body sagged once more. He dropped his head in defeat, and Zelena withdrew her hand. "Hook will risk even himself to save her," he admitted, his eyes closing. "She just wants a home. She wants her son. But she won't believe in love, even if it's right in front of her." He shuddered, and this time the groan had more pain in it._

_ Zelena grinned in triumph, a plan forming in her head. She straightened up, waving her hand as she turned around. She heard a gasp and the creaking of metal bars behind her, and the Dark One's muttering resumed. _

_ She faced the Snow Queen, who raised an eyebrow. "You must orchestrate the match yourself?" Ingrid asked, a flicker of curiosity and some other emotion in her eyes._

_ Zelena nodded, striding over to where a crystal ball rested on one of the pedestals. She waved her hand over it, and a green tinted image appeared. _

_ The leather clad pirate hunched over his desk, looking haggard, a flask of rum in his hand. As they watched, he leaned back and took a sip, closing his eyes as he drained the rest of the flask. _

_ "Captain Hook," Zelena announced. She turned to face Ingrid. "He will need to escape the curse so he may bring back the Savior. She is currently cursed in the Land without Magic. We will speak to him, and I will ensure he may break her curse. Then, you shall cast the Dark Curse, and we will be in the Land without Magic. Once there, I will have my child, and you shall have your niece."_

_ Ingrid nodded, looking down at the pirate in the orb. "Your child isn't born yet."_

_ "No," snapped Zelena in irritation. "That's why I'm going to all this trouble. I don't care about reuniting true loves."_

_ "And this Savior, Emma, she will be the one to bear your child? With her true love?" Ingrid asked, inclining her head towards the seeing crystal. _

_ "Yes."_

_ "Right now, all you have is a Savior and a pirate who are not in love and are in separate realms, and you want their future child?"_

_ Zelena narrowed her eyes, wondering why Ingrid was asking so many questions. She was thick-headed, if she couldn't understand this by now. Zelena had explained to her what she wanted. "Yes."_

_ Ingrid tilted her head, studying Zelena. "And what if they don't fall in love? What if she wants…a new family?"_

_ Zelena curled her hands into fists, a green light emanating from them and her necklace as she unconsciously summoned her magic. "I will do anything it takes to ensure she bears me that child."_

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the long time between updating. It was a mix of finals and holidays and new classes, but hopefully I'm back. <strong>

**I've been waiting for the chance to get inside Hook's head. It just took a couple chapters for Emma to set everything up, but I'll be bouncing back and forth between them. **


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